


Relax

by yamsandapples



Series: These Dorks Who Somehow Don't Realize They Like Each Other Yet [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Dirty Thoughts, I cannot title, M/M, Masturbation, Oneshot, This is super short but it's not bad short, but here u are, lord I cranked this out at 3am, yep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-11-02 04:47:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10937313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yamsandapples/pseuds/yamsandapples
Summary: Jack's just trying to relieve a little stress but a certain southern blond won't leave his mind be.





	Relax

**Author's Note:**

> seriously I have no idea.

Jack was worn thin and absolutely sick of studying. It was a little past 1am and he had been studying his ass off for 3 hours. It was at the point that he wasn't so much studying as just staring at a bunch of letters while his mind wandered to anything and everything other than his work. Jack scrubbed his hands over his face and in his hair, as if trying to wipe away the layer of stress finals week had laid on him. He looked out the window; complete darkness, naturally. The one small lamp on his desk cast a warm light across the room. He listened to the haus creek and settle in the night hour, the wind whispering through the trees outside his open window, and decided that all the haus's other occupants must be asleep by now. 

He'd studied enough he deserved a break, Jack thought. And plenty of sleep. And maybe something to release the stress that had squeezed his shoulders into tight knots. Pushing the desk chair back and standing up, Jack stretched so long and fervently that his vision went dark and he stumbled a little. 

After quickly brushing his teeth, he kicked off his sweatpants and pulled his shirt off. He propped himself up a little bit against the headboard with one leg beneath the sheets and one out. Closing his eyes, he tried to keep his mind blank and focus on the feel alone as he trailed a hand over his boxers.

But just as he had slipped the hand under the elastic of his briefs and began to touch in earnest, there was a quiet knock on the door. Jack quickly pulled his hand away from his semi hard on and threw a pillow over his lap.

"Come in," Jack said and cursed in his mind he way his voice cracked obviously.

The door creaked open and Bittle peeked in cautiously. "Hi, I saw your light on and was wondering if-" but he stopped suddenly, apparently just taking Jack's position. His eyes flitted to the pillow Jack was trying to hold casually, and a blush bloomed on his cheeks. "I- I was wondering if you had some batteries I could have my calculator died and I seem to have run out do you have any?" He rushed the words all the while looking at anything in the room but Jack. 

Jack could feel his own face flushing and his heart hammered slightly. Of all the people... Though likely anyone else would've chirped the life out of him by now.

"Uh yeah check the top drawer in the desk. Should be some there." Thankfully, his voice wasn't cracking anymore.

"Thanks a ton," Bittle said and opened the door fully. He was wearing obnoxiously short pajama bottoms and a well-worn Star Wars hoodie that revealed far too much collarbone. Jack hadn't even known Bittle liked Star Wars. Jack watched Bittle walk gingerly (but not slowly) to his desk as if he was afraid he'd somehow break something of Jack's if he walked too loud. He rummaged for just a second before producing three AAA batteries and then, thanking Jack again, scampered back across the floor and out the door closing it ever so gently.

Jack had barely moved a muscle throughout the whole encounter but upon pulling his mind away from "why does he even bother wearing such shorts shorts when it would be just as effective to wear only underwear", he found that his previously semi hard dick was now much more alert.

He switched off the desk lamp for good measure and lay on his back, desperate to do something about his hard on. Again, he tried to empty his mind as he stroked languidly. He bit his lip to stifle a noise when the image of a soft blond head bobbing up and down on his cock flashed behind his eyelids. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter and shooed away all thoughts. He stroked himself again but a voice made itself heard within his mind. A high pitched, southern voice saying, "Jack, oh Jack!" in a lustful tone.

"Oh fuck," Jack whispered aloud, tightening his grip on his dick as his hips twitched up of their own accord searching for greater friction.

He couldn't stop it now; it was like all the dirty thoughts he'd ever had multiplied by one hundred. Racy images of Bittle kept flitting through his mind almost urgently. Bitty stroking his own cock; Bitty stroking Jack's cock ("Soft hands," he mused); Bitty kissing Jack and biting his neck and licking his abs; Bitty, face pressed to mattress, fingers stretching his hole, his face flushed and beautiful; Eric Bittle smiling sweetly as he played with Jack's hair, warm in the afterglow.

Jack was breathing hard now, his toes curling and uncurling under the sheets. He remembered those shorts Bittle had been wearing. He wondered what it would be like to fuck him while he wore those shorts. God damn those shorts.

He flipped onto his stomach, face pressed against the pillow, breath coming fast, and he jerked his hips against the mattress, cock wet with precum slipping against his hand.

One more image of the blond boy sent Jack over the edge and he nearly cried out when the feeling hit him. But he stifled it and hissed and cursed as all his muscles twitched and relaxed, boneless from the strength of climax.

He lay there panting and twitching slightly. Shit, he thought dazedly. This was definitely something he'd have to deal with at some point, but he fell asleep before he could put too much thought into it.


End file.
